Stigmatized
by Divinia Serit
Summary: "She couldn't stop wringing her hands. It was strange that an action which dredged up a painful wave of emotion seemed to instantly soothe her."
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, I've decided to venture into a new fandom! I've fallen in love with this show and the characters thanks to a fellow writer. Don't worry, Mentalist Readers! I'm still writing for that fandom, and I'll update Evergreen once I figure out where I'm going with that story… I've completely forgotten! Note to all- this is why you back up stuff so you don't lose it when your computer crashes! Updates may be slow- school and job are eating up my life!

Title: Stigmatized  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Implied Rizzoli/Isles

Disclaimer: Not mine! Just playing!

Notes: I'm playing with a variation on the pilot as I get used to the characters! In this story, Rizzoli was pulled off the Apprentice case due to the personal conflict with the case. She knows the 'Apprentice' is out there, but she has little knowledge of the case details since she and Isles are not working the wealthy couples' murders. I'm not sure how long this will be, but it will be different from the pilot although inspired by the same events! All mistakes are my own. Please forgive any errors!

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**Chapter 1**

The skin was raised and puckered under the smooth pad of her finger- scar tissue left over from a memory better left forgotten. And yet, she couldn't stop wringing her hands. It was strange that an action which dredged up a painful wave of emotion seemed to instantly soothe her. Running her thumb over the scar once more, she stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and flexed her stiff fingers away from prying eyes. Their expressions were full of pity, and it made her want to scream at the top of her lungs. She was a survivor. _He_ didn't bother her. It would probably be more believable if she wasn't lying to herself.

Still. She shouldn't have to keep explaining herself to outsiders who only wanted the gory details. Strangers lingered in morbid curiosity when they realized _she _was the one that got away- the one Hoyt was still fascinated with. Sure, the prosecutors tried to use her and Korsac tried to shield her. She didn't need any damn protection. Hoyt was locked up. The prosecutors were gone. And Korsac… Korsac was no longer partnered with her. Not that it hadn't stopped Frost from stepping into the role of her protector.

Ignoring the whispers that echoed in the silence, she strode into the living room seeking solace in the presence of her best friend. The blonde medical examiner was crouched over a prone body-a young girl that looked like a rag doll haphazardly tossed on the floor after a day of play. Jane Rizzoli watched as her friend's eyes took in every detail as she ran a gloved finger through the girl's hair in order to get a better view of the laceration on the back of the girl's skull. Shooting her a tight smile, Maura continued to study the various incisions covering the poor girl, and Jane took that as her cue to process the rest of the scene.

Not that she could focus. A madman was loose in the city. A madman with a modus operandi far too close to another man. She tried to push away that line of thinking. She had been pulled from the case without a second thought. Conflict of interest the brass said. She was in too deep already, and they couldn't afford to have the case compromised by her lack of judgment. Never mind the fact that she was the expert on Hoyt. She was the one that could get inside his head, and she was the one with the scars to prove it. The brass could care less.

"Increased blood flow to the amygdala is often a side effect of unpleasant situations, but it keeps humans from engaging in possible harmful behaviors. It's a typical reaction."

"Is that your way of telling me it's okay to be nervous?" Jane retorted as she took in her friend's concerned gaze. "Cause I'm not."

"Right," Maura stated looking none to convinced. Letting the matter drop, she turned her attention back to the corpse in front of her.

"Multiple lacerations and contusions covering the body. The color of the bruising around some of the wounds suggests possible healing before a repeat injury. I'll know more after my autopsy."

"So we got a possible domestic violence or ongoing abuse. Any sign of sexual trauma?"

"I didn't say that, and no visible trauma. I can't give you a conclusive answer-"

"Until after the autopsy," Jane finished with a sigh.

Turning away, Jane closed her eyes for a few seconds and pushed the barrage of thoughts towards the back of her mind. She willed the tension to leave her shoulders, and she was surprised Maura had yet to comment on the shape of her bone structure impacting muscle function or whatever technical explanation she'd state. Maura was brilliant, but sometimes she was just so damn irritating. Ignoring her mind's taunting voice which sounded eerily like The Surgeon's, Jane tried to focus on the case at hand. Major Cases would handle Hoyt and his apprentice for now.

Hours later, Rizzoli wearily trudged to her car with Maura close on her heels. She felt disgusting after processing the scene and wondered how her friend always looked like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Running a hand through her tangled ponytail, she decided she just wanted to take a hot shower and curl up on her bed with a glass of wine. A glance towards the medical examiner told her she wasn't going to get off the hook that easily.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Maura pressed as she studied Jane with a practiced eye.

"Peachy. And my eyes are red from lack of sleep in case you were wondering," Jane commented flippantly. Maura frowned.

"Actually-"

"Maura."

"Oh. You were being sarcastic again."

"Yes. It's fine. Hoyt's still incarcerated, and it's not like I have a wealthy husband for the apprentice to come after."

Jane shook her head as Maura bit her lip to stop from grinning. At least her mother hadn't called yet. Although, she was sure Frankie would be all too happy to fill the Rizzoli matriarch in once he learned of the details surrounding the prominent murders. Waving goodbye to the doctor, Jane slid into the driver's seat with a sigh. Rubbing her palms once more, she jumped as the shrill ring of her cell phone cut through the dark silence.

"Rizzoli."

Fifteen minutes later, she was still sitting at the crime scene, and she was sure the deputy on patrol was getting suspicious by now. She had been ordered to come to headquarters in the morning. MCS had tried to interview Hoyt. Apparently, he agreed to cooperate.

He would only talk to her.

She cursed and slammed her hands on the steering wheel.

Her palms stung.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review! I really appreciate all your words of encouragement and support! Also thank you to everyone who added this story to story alert. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. I must say, I really enjoyed writing the second part of this chapter! I did take a few lines from the interview with Hoyt from the Pilot. Certain moments were hard to recreate without the exact statement.**

**Once again, thank you to: TROMANA, BOUTONDOR, JISBON4EVER, AUTUMNFTW, YABA, and especially ANDREA who left an anonymous review that I couldn't reply to! Y'all are the best!**

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Chapter 2

Jimmy O'Donnell frowned as his partner tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently. Glaring at the annoying sound, he let out a heavy sigh and glanced at his watch. Rizzoli was late. Not that it really surprised him. Who in their right mind would want to confront a sadist that once held your life in his hands. He suppressed a chill at the thought. Rizzoli could be a pain in the ass, but she was well-respected by the veteran officers in the group… especially after 'The Incident'. No one deserved what had happened to her, and some days he was honestly surprised she was still with the force.

Clearing his throat, he headed down to the break room to refill his coffee mug. Although, Doyle had made it this morning. That meant it would taste like sludge. He sighed again. Some caffeine was better than none. As he neared the entry, he paused when he overheard the cocky voices coming from within. He immediately recognized them from the rookie training seminar he had to speak at the other day. Before he could enter and silence them with his presence, he overheard Rizzoli's name. Leaning against the door frame, he waited.

"I heard it was Rizzoli's fault. Shit, being partnered with her is like a career death sentence. Just look at Korsac."

"You see her hands? Serious scars- wonder if there are more, if ya know what I mean…"

"Like she'd even give you the time of day! Besides, I've heard she swings the other way-"

"Maybe she likes it rough. Damn shame- fine piece of ass like that."

Raucous laughter followed this statement and Jimmy bristled. Damn idiots should have more respect for their fellow officers. He strode into the room seething with anger, his fingers clenched around the coffee mug. Looking each man in the eye, none would hold his gaze. At least the rookies had the decency to look ashamed when they realized he had overheard every word.

"Don't you have something better to do than stand around gossiping like school girls?" He yelled and was met with silence. "Let this be a warning. We may not always get along, but we respect our fellow detectives. You'll all be suspended if I hear another word about this."

"Sticking up for me, O'Donnell? Never thought I'd see the day!" a husky voice called.

The rookies scattered as Detective Jane Rizzoli strode through the break room door. Winking at a few, she bit her lip to keep from laughing at their terrified expressions. Shooting a smile towards O'Donnell, she crossed her hands in front of her chest and raised an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time people had gossiped about her, and she learned long ago to not show how much it bothered her. Besides, scaring the living shit out of the rookies with her attitude was much more fun.

"You rang?" she said with a smirk as O'Donnell rolled his eyes at her unprofessional behavior.

"Come on, hot shot. We're already running late," O'Donnell replied.

He immediately noticed Rizzoli tense. Her face tightened slightly as she ran her thumb across her palm. He tried not to stare. Her eyes darkened as she turned and left the bull pen without another word. Exchanging a quick look with his partner, they quickly followed her out to the car. O'Donnell prayed Keegan had the sense to not ask any stupid questions. Rizzoli looked ready to snap and they hadn't even talked to Charles Hoyt yet. He groaned. The headache was already beginning, and it was going to be a long day.

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"Jane."

He watched as she did her best to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body at the way the serial killer caressed her name. His icy eyes watched her with dancing amusement while he looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her hands. She was a beautiful specimen. Absolute perfection. He smiled. She glared.

"Trade ya," she said suddenly as she held up her palms.

Hoyt grinned as he studied the raised scars crossing the center of her palms. That was his handiwork. Those marks forever branded the fiery brunette as his. He knew their very presence increased her status as an outcast. As one of the few women in the field, her mistakes made the doubt against her even stronger. It made her weak. Smiling a crooked smile, he met her steely gaze once more.

"What makes you think I have anything to share?" he replied.

"You always have something to share," she responded under her breath causing him to chuckle. "Besides your lack of curiosity or anger clearly proves you know exactly what's going on."

"Touché," was his only answer.

He looked around the room, skimming over the presence of the other two detectives that watched the interaction with thinly veiled interest. They held his gaze, and he smiled once more. Turning back to the woman in front of him, he cocked his head to the side as if searching for some lost response.

"I might have known someone once. My memory's not what it used to be- you'll have to forgive me. Besides, there were so many potentials along the way. Too many to sort through without an additional incentive."

She growled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes never leaving his face. How he missed the mental sparring she provided. Nothing in prison was as stimulating as this, and he could feel himself grow hard in response.

"Do you dream about me?"

Her eyes widened as she fought to control the outburst that wanted to escape. The other detective slammed his fist down on the table. In truth, he had forgotten about the others. They were inconsequential anyways. Refusing to give the other man another glance, his eyes bore into Jane's as she ignored the other detectives. He hid his smile as she continued to stay silent, and a brief thought flickered through his mind. How desperate was she? He stood and turned.

"Yes," she said hoarsely. "Damn it, yes."

He froze before turning around slowly with a half-smile curling on his face. Lowering himself back towards his seat, he clasped his shackled hands in front of him. Pursing his lips with a small hum, his eyes gleamed when he realized just how anxious she was. Figuring out Jane Rizzoli was like working on a challenging puzzle. She kept her emotions hidden, her fears out of reach, and he fancied himself the only one that could find the cracks in her careful constructed façade. She was afraid.

Checkmate.

"I do remember one young man eager to prove his skill. It was war back then, you know. No one misses the enemy, except perhaps the enemy themselves…"

The guards grabbed him roughly and hauled him out of the chair at that point. Obviously his visit was over. As they marched him out of the small room, he caught a glimpse of Jane in the door's reflection.

It wouldn't be long now.


End file.
